


what we do behind (open) doors

by LydiaOfNarnia



Series: five times, one time prompts [7]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M, Making Out, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:05:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12238887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOfNarnia/pseuds/LydiaOfNarnia
Summary: Ralph doesn't know how he got into  relationship with Julian -- or if he's even in a relationship with Julian at all -- but he is sure that he doesn't want his friends finding out about it.Too bad they can't keep their hands to themselves.





	what we do behind (open) doors

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Tumblr prompt: "Spina and Julian become kissing buddies and maybe even develop feelings towards each other. They're hiding their new hobby from the rest of their crew. 5 times Spina and Julian are almost caught kissing and one time they are caught. I love how you write kissing. It's fantastic." yes i included the compliment there bc i am an attention gremlin who needs love
> 
> Of course, the characters in this fic are based off of their fictional portrayals from the miniseries Band of Brothers, and I mean no disrespect to the real-life veterans!
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [renelemaires](http://renelemaires.tumblr.com/)!

**_i. the home alone sequel nobody wanted or needed_ **

It all starts when Ralph walks into the living room to find Julian curled up on the couch.

This is alarming if only because he'd been sure he was home alone. Everyone else is out for one reason or another; since the house had been conspicuously absent of the sound of loud video games or reality shows, Ralph assumed Julian followed suit. The last thing he's expecting to be confronted with when he steps into the living room is his friend cocooned in a pile of blankets. Julian’s head is buried in a pillow. His shoulders are shaking.

“Hey,” Ralph says, mouth dropping open in surprise. This fails to elicit a reaction. “Hey, Julian!”

When he takes a step towards him, Julian only turns so that his back is towards his friend. Ralph pauses, unsure whether he should continue. It's obvious that Julian doesn't want to be bothered…

Then he hears a weak sniffle, and the decision is made for him.

“Ahh, kid, come on.” He is on the couch next to Julian in an instant. The other boy doesn't pull away when a hand lands on his back. He doesn't cringe, he doesn't even let out a whimper. He stays so still that were it not for the weak rise and fall of Ralph’s hand, he'd be convinced Julian wasn't breathing. “What's the matter? Talk to me.”

It takes a few seconds -- and a wet sniffle -- before Julian can answer. “No, it's -- it's not -- not like that,” he stammers, and hastens to explain himself. “No one did anything, I'm just kinda -- look, Spina, you don't have to worry --”

“But I am,” Ralph says, cutting him off. The statement is as blunt as it is honest. For the first time, a sliver of Julian’s face peers out from the cocoon of blankets. He looks flushed, washed out, shaky. His eyes are swollen redder than his blotchy cheeks; his mouth is pulled into a helpless grimace. Even so, he looks worn out enough that if he were standing Ralph would worry he was ready to collapse.

“Tell me,” he says, rubbing up and down Julian’s shoulder blades. The kid shudders, and inhales a shallow gasp. He chokes on it. Ralph shushes him, urging him to breathe it out, but it’s clear that Julian is struggling. “I’m right here. It’s okay. Tell me what’s the matter.”

“I just -- I can’t -- oh god, Spina, I feel so stupid. I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not,” Ralph replies. He’s slowly growing more and more alarmed. Julian isn’t prone to emotional outbursts in general, but he definitely doesn’t get downright disconsolate. Sure, things might affect him, but he doesn’t _show_ it.

“Jules,” he prompts again. His hand stops Julian’s attempts to pull the covers back over his head. Instead he leans close, forcing his friend to look at him. “Talk to me.”

Julian inhales another shuddering breath and, at last, speaks. “It’s just, my ma just called me… and I hadn’t talked to her, I didn’t realize how long it’s been until I heard her voice -- it’s been weeks, god, I… and she’s saying, like, how _proud_ she is. She’s proud of me. I’m down here in college doing jack-shit, while she’s back home all alone and sick… she’s only got me, and I ain’t even there for her, and she’s so damn _proud_ of me…”

Ralph thinks of Julian’s single mother, forged from iron in the fields of Alabama and transplanted to Philly streets, now all alone in her little apartment in a not-so-nice neighborhood. His stomach twists. Julian can be callous, but never on purpose. He'd die for his ma.

“Hey. You're a good son,” he murmurs, hand locking on his friend’s shoulder. “You're out here doing what she wants you to be doing. You're making her proud every day. She knows how much you love her.”

Julian gives a wet, ugly sniffle. “But I don't feel -- like I'm doing anything. I'm just here. I don't know where I'm going, I don't wanna go anywhere… I'm happy just being here. But she… deserves better than --”

“She couldn't have a better son than you,” Ralph interjects. Julian looks up at him sharply. “You're the greatest kid she could ask for. You're crazy if you think anything different. You, you're destined for amazing things, and you're gonna make her proud. You'll make us all proud, and you won't even realize it until you do. I know you, Jules. I know how great you are.”

He doesn't realize how heavy his words are until he sees them settling upon Julian’s shoulders, one by one. His body sags; his furrowed brow clears; his lip trembles, but he does not cry again. Instead he blinks those large black eyes up at Ralph, and does something completely unexpected.

He kisses him.

Spins doesn't see it coming. He doesn't have the chance to react until Julian’s mouth is already on his, chapped lips grinding against dry ones. A hand comes up to cup his stubbed cheek. Julian sinks all his weight against him, and those eyes flutter shut.

Ralph’s eyes stay wide open.

 _This can't be happening,_ he thinks to himself. _This cannot be happening._ There's no way he's sitting here kissing one of his best friends in the whole world. That wouldn't just be ridiculous, that would be… utterly crazy. This is _crazy._

He doesn't push Julian away. He waits until the other boy parts for a gasp of breath before placing a hand in Julian’s chest, holding him back. Julian tries to go in again, but is stopped. His wide gaze flickers up to Ralph.

“What are you doing, Jules?”

“I --” Julian pants out, before the word dies in his threat. Something inexplicable flickers across his face. “Please,” he mutters instead, words raspy and weighted. “I need something right now. I need something to feel good.”

 _This feels good?_ Ralph wonders, but he doesn't have to really think about it. He knows as well as Julian just how good it feels. When Julian leans back in again, Ralph finds himself moving to meet him.

He cups Julian’s face, runs his thumb over his tear-streaked face, and allows himself to get lost. It is the easiest thing in the goddamned world.

They do this until the door opens, it's thunderous bang announcing Babe’s return home. They spring apart with a second to spare, neither one daring to look at each other. They both feel flushed, warm, and more confused than at peace.

Babe takes one glance at them, and in his infinite brilliance of observation, breezes on into the kitchen. Ralph exhales a breath and sneaks a glance at Julian’s face.

At least he's not crying anymore.

* * *

 

**_ii. would you like fries with that?_ **

So, yeah, it doesn’t start out healthy. Ralph will be the first one to admit that, Julian close behind him. They don’t start it for a good reason; but after they start it, it happens again and again. Somewhere along the line, the hurt morph into something joyful -- something so good and right that they never question whether it might not be. It shifts from something solemn and needy to a happy release for them both.

They don't mean for it to become a thing. It just sort of does. One kiss turns into two; stolen seconds in the living room turn into sneaking moments wherever they can find them. Outside the bathroom, in the kitchen, early in the morning or late at night… in all the places where they really shouldn't be so bold.

Ralph knows they shouldn't be doing this here. It's unethical, immoral, and kind of rude. It's his _friends’ car,_ for chrissakes -- but he supposes Julian put it best.

“It's the stupid McDonalds’ fault for not having a drive-through.”

They have two minutes -- three, tops -- before Fran and Bill come back to the car carrying tonight’s dinner. There's no time for any funny business, but hell if they aren't going to try anyway.

“Oh my god,” Julian moans, fingers digging into the fabric of Ralph’s shirt. “Oh my _god.”_

“You wanna tear that?” Ralph grumbles against his neck, relishing the way Julian tenses at the vibration of words against skin. “You're doing a damn good job. When's the last time you cut your nails?”

“What's the matter?” Julian slips a hand beneath Ralph’s shirt, grazing his nails over the skin of Ralph’s back. It feels like being electrocuted in the best way. “You don't like ‘em long?”

Ralph can't form the words to reply. In response, he just tugs Julian into his laugh. The lighter boy lets out a peak of laughter as Ralph easily moves him, legs wrapping around Ralph’s waits. Julian’s got long legs, long arms, long everything. In spite of all that, he's still average height. When they were kids, they all used to call Julian “Spaghetti Boy”, because he's got the gangly limbs and the coordination to match. Now, however, Ralph thinks Julian bears a much closer resemblance to a tree.

When Julian captures his lips, all thoughts leave him -- worries of getting seen, of getting caught, of the sanctity of Bill’s car. Julian is impossible to deny; he's impossible to ignore. Ralph finds himself utterly sucked in, every time.

He can't speak. Every protest is swallowed down by Julian’s hungry lips. It is all Ralph can do to remember how to breathe, let alone organize his chaos of thoughts into words. He's crazy about whatever they've got going on. He's crazy about Julian. He wants to hold him, to kiss him, until the sun swallows up the entire planet. Julian makes him feel good. He makes him feel empowered. He wants to make Julian feel the same way.

Ralph can't say any of this, however. There's no time; there's no chance. Julian is still kissing him like a starving man, and every time Ralph pulls away for breath, he's quick to catch him up again. Ralph clenches his hands around Julian’s shoulders, dizzy with euphoria --

And the car’s lock clicks.

Julian lets out a yelp, tumbling sideways out of Ralph’s lap. He doesn't hit the car floor. Instead he impacts the back of the driver’s seat, and winds up sprawled upside down, legs kicking in the air. Ralph gales like a dummy, still fastened into his own seat, and watches through the dashboard window as Bull and Fran trudge back to the car towing copious amounts of fast food.

They're looking at each other and talking. They're laughing. Dear god, they have no idea.

 _Thank god,_ Ralph things to himself.

Fran slides into the passenger’s seat, while Bill takes his place behind the steering wheel. The bags of fast food are passed back into Ralph's protective custody. “Julian,” Fran says, “what the all-loving fuck are you doing?”

Julian is still upside down. He seems like he's given up trying to right himself again. “Yoga,” he says flatly.

“Your form is off,” Bill tells him. He leans over just enough for Fran to shove a few fries into his open mouth, and starts up the car. Neither of them glance back at Julian again.

They drive off with Julian still upside down, and he stays like that until they pull into the driveway, where the combined efforts of Babe and Ralph manage to right him. When his foot connects with Babe’s nose, Ralph starts laughing so hard that he drops him, and Julian hits the gravel driveway cursing. Fran and Bill are already waiting at the door with dinner.

“We need normal friends,” Fran remarks.

Bill nods his head, stealing a French fry from her without looking away from the Three Stooges. “You think the circus is hiring?”

Fran sighs. “I'll make some phone calls.”

* * *

 

**_iii. dressing down_ **

Sitting and waiting for Babe to pick out the perfect outfit for his date night would be boring any day. Thankfully for both he and Julian, Ralph is determined to make the best out of it.

Julian lets out a hushed giggle as Ralph’s hand creeps along his lower back. He's slipped under his shirt; now he's massaging the ridges of Julian’s spine, feeling every familiar tick and bump. It's a pressure point for Julian too, and when Ralph presses down, his eyes flutter shut in barely concealed sensation. Making Julian melt under his touch is exhilarating.

“We're gonna get caught,” Julian hisses. Ralph smirks at him. They've been doing this often enough that they've gotten good at not getting caught, but taking the risk is exhilarating.

(There's also the fact that no matter where they are, they keep getting interrupted. He and Julian haven't taken it past the half-naked stages, mostly because someone always interrupts them at the worst possible time. Maybe Ralph thinks that by picking the most obvious place to be interrupted ever, karma will balance their luck out.)

He leans over, grazing Julian’s wardrobe with his lips. Julian gives a wheezy exhale.

“Hey, guys!” Babe’s voice floats from behind the closed dressing room door. “Do you think Gene cares what color tie I wear?”

“You're wearing a _tie?”_ Julian echoes, voice on the high-pitched end of flustered. “How desperate are you?”

For this date to go well, _very._ Babe has been planning his first date with Gene Roe for weeks. That's the whole reason he managed to drag Ralph and Julian out shopping with him in the first place. They’re just too good of friends to say no to him. (Babe has an atrociously effective pair of puppy-dog eyes.)

“I need a shirt. Why the hell do we have no clean shirts at home?”

“Hell,” says Ralph, massaging Julian’s lower back. “If that's all you need, I could have given you one.”

“Spina, that wouldn't work. You're too… too…”

“Spit it out.”

_“Robust.”_

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

His hand freezes on Julian’s back. Julian must not like this, because he shuffles just close enough to lean over and graze his lips against Ralph’s jaw. Ralph lets out a gasp before he can muffle it, and Julian’s toothy grin is unashamed.

“Babe’s a skinny bastard and you’re not,” he says, loud enough for Babe to hear. “That’s okay. I like you better this way.”

In response, Ralph begins massaging Julian’s hips once more. Julian’s elbow nudges his side, and when Ralph looks over he finds bright eyes staring back at him. Ralph’s hand creeps down the back of Julian’s pants.

Their chairs are close enough together that Julian is all but pressed against his side, hiding their antics from view. It's a good thing, Ralph knows. If this gets any more intimate, they'll get kicked out of the store.

Babe’s head suddenly appears over the top of the dressing room door. He’s wide-eyed, flushed, panting; Ralph has never seen him look more harassed. For a second, he’s sure they’ve been caught.

Then Babe demands in a haggard tone, “Guys, do you think the blue or green look better on me?”

“Blue,” Ralph answers without hesitation. “Green makes you look like a pumpkin.”

Babe’s head vanishes back down once more. Ralph’s hand reaches Julian’s ass, and squeezes. Julian jumps in his seat. When his wide eyes turn to Ralph, he receives only a smirk in return.

* * *

 

**_iv. welcome to verizon, how may i help you?_ **

“Oh god,” Ralph gasps, fingers digging into the back of Julian’s neck. “Jules, you gotta give it a rest, we can't -- come on --”

Julian just straddles him, leaning in until he is all Ralph can see, all that exists. There are no coworkers outside; they are not in a dark supply closet in the middle of a Verizon store. There is just Ralph, Julian, and all the electricity passing in between them.

Julian’s lips descend on his collarbone, and a long groan passes Ralph’s lips. “Oh, Jesus!”

“Shh,” Julian chides, like a proper little minx. He casts a nod towards the door, sending the memory that they aren't alone jolting through Ralph’s head like a lightning bolt. When he tries to swallow, Julian just grins and presses his mouth against Ralph’s throat.

“Stay calm,” he whispers, teeth grazing Ralph’s jugular. “Stay quiet. You don’t wanna get us caught…”

His hand closes around Ralph’s crotch, and Ralph has to bite back a moan. After so many interruptions, it couldn’t be more clear that Julian is getting impatient… but he’s going to kill him.

His back presses hard against the painted brick behind him, and he scrambles for purchase. There is none. Julian is pressing up against him and Ralph is helpless, just struggling to stay on his feet.

“I can’t,” Ralph gasps as Julian busies himself leaving a hickey along his collarbone. His hand is still kneading, massaging through Ralph’s pants, overwhelming him with so much sensation that it’s mind numbing. Julian is trying his damndest to turn him into putty, and he’s succeeding. “Julian, I can’t, christ, it’s too much…”

“Good,” Julian snarls, and there’s a pulse of frustration in his voice. This is what sends Ralph over the edge.

He doesn’t realize he’s moaning -- really, truly making noise, the type that would tell any idiot what’s going on -- until Julian’s hand clamps over his mouth. By that point he’s already on his way down, feeling hazy and euphoric. He doesn’t get the chance to be embarrassed by his own actions before Julian’s mouth captures his own, swallowing back any other sounds he could make.

Ralph keeps a grip on his shoulders, only able to kiss him back. Julian is determined; it seems like he’s going in for round two, if the way his teeth graze Ralph’s lips are any indication. They’re cut off, however, by a sudden shout from outside the closet.

“Julian! Where’d you go, buddy?”

Julian freezes. Ralph goes absolutely still as well. Neither of them move, neither of them dare breathe, as heavy footsteps approach the closet.

“Did you get those cases yet?” Hoobler calls, and Ralph’s eyes widen in disbelief. He pinches Julian’s arm hard, just enough to convey what an idiot he is. Cases? You disappear for ten minutes and your excuse is getting phone cases?

The pinch must spur Julian into action, because he’s quick to clear his throat. “Uhh -- yeah! One minute, Hoob! Be right out!”

His voice cracks.

Ralph wants to die.

“Hey, where are the extra bluetooths?” Jackson’s voice rings out, even closer to the closet than Hoobler’s. Ralph’s heart is about to beat out of his chest. He and Julian are still pressed together. Why haven’t they pulled away?

“I’ve got ‘em! I’ve got ‘em!” Julian squeaks. Finally, Ralph works up the nerve to shove Julian away. The smaller man immediately reels into the nearest rack of supplies, and starts fumbling through the boxes. Is he looking for phone cases? Bluetooths? Dignity? Ralph doesn’t know, and doesn’t care. He sinks down on the floor and bites down on his knuckles, desperate not to be caught by Julian’s coworkers screwing around in the back of the store.

Finally, Julian finds what he’s looking for. He exhales like he’s just remembered how to breathe, and throws a thumbs-up Ralph’s way. “Sneak out back in a few minutes,” he instructs, as nonchalantly as he’d ordered Ralph to sneak in. Then, just like that, he’s gone.

Ralph mutters a curse under his breath and buries his face in his hands. He’s not sure how much more of this he -- or _Julian_ \-- can take.

* * *

 

**_v. a little research_ **

There is absolutely no reason for Julian to be crashing this study session. It's an exclusive medical-student centric hour; Ralph and his friends are pouring over textbooks, analyzing anatomy and biology, scrutinizing various symptoms. It's far from their first study session, and this one is like any other…

If you ignore Julian lounging on the bed behind them, phone suspended over his face as he glares at a game of Fire Wheels.

Studying is not Julian’s thing. In fact, he makes a point of avoiding it as much as possible; which is why Ralph really can't understand why Julian insisted on joining him today.

His friends are wondering that too, but he's lucky to have buddies good enough not to say anything. Renée deals with her roommate Vera’s boyfriend (and his assorted company of loud friends) hanging around their apartment so much that she doesn't question Julian’s presence. The knowing look she shoots Ralph leaves him feeling like she's seen right through them, but she's tactful enough to keep her mouth shut. Gene, bless him, puts up with enough from Babe that he's probably used to their particular brand of Philly weirdness. Julian’s fish-out-of-water presence is noticed, but no one questions it. For this, Ralph is grateful.

Only when Julian starts swinging his legs in the air with enough force to rock the whole bed does the calm of the study session shift. Gene hops to his feet before he can fall of, while Renée swivels around in her desk chair to look at the people remaining on the bed through narrowed eyes.

Specifically, she's looking at Julian and Ralph. The scrutiny in her glare makes Ralph’s skin crawl.

“Eugene,” she says, just as Gene is reeling around looking ready to say something, “I'd like some tea. Will you help me make it?”

Gene chokes down whatever sharp words were on the tip of his tongue, and nods his head. “Yeah,” he tells her. “Sure.”

As she's leaving the room, Renée winks at him. Ralph almost chokes on his own spit.

No sooner have they been left alone than arms are looping around his waist, pulling him back. Ralph tries to wiggle out of the hold, but Julian’s like an octopus. There's no escaping him.

“They're gone,” Julian mutters once he's pulled Ralph down enough that their heads are level against the comforter. “Thank god.”

Hot lips graze over Ralph’s temple, making him squirm. “Not here, Jules. We'll get caught for sure --”

“Sure we will,” replies Julian. “That's half the fun.”

The worst part is he's _right._ They've become goddamn exhibitionists, and Ralph didn't even realize it was happening until he had a lap full of his friend in their latest public venue. It's not even like they're subtle, or good at not getting caught. They've just been phenomenally lucky.

He tries to protest, but Julian’s lips swallow his words up. After that, it's easy to lose himself.

There's no point in struggling. There's no point in trying to think. Julian’s mouth moves against his in a frenetic rhythm. His hands paw at him, and Ralph finds himself gripping back just to anchor himself. Julian is like a riptide sweeping him away, and Ralph can't remember how to swim. All he can do is give in to the persistence of Julian’s tongue, and press right back.

When Julian straddles him, he feels a gasp catch in his throat. He catches sight of dark eyes and a slash of a grin before Julian goes back in once more. On top of it all, be begins to grind; the friction between his hips and Ralph’s is almost mind-numbing.

He's not trying to reach any release, Ralph knows. Julian is torturing him. What's more, he's powerless to help himself, because this is all just too overwhelming.

His lips are freed up again as Julian’s mouth creeps along his jaw, and Ralph lets out an uninhibited moan. Julian’s grinding grows more determined. The pressure against his throat tells Ralph he's going to have a mighty bruise there, but he doesn't care, because Julian is holding him like a vice, and he won't stop, can't stop --

Julian tenses up with a gasp before going lax all at once. He basically melts on top of Ralph. Then he goes very, very still.

“Oh my god,” Julian whispers. Then, louder, laced with laughter, “oh my god.”

“This doesn't mean a thing, you know,” Ralph tells him. “You're still a virgin.”

“Oh, _come on --”_

They're cut off by the sound of steady footsteps on the stairs. Julian is too spent to move. Ralph is the one who has to roll him off, shoving him back towards the wall, and hastily repositions himself with one of Renée’s pillows over his lap to hide the tent in his pants. He reopens his textbook, straightens out his beanie, and flashes a wide smile as his friends walk back into the room.

Gene looks suspicious; Renée, amused. “You make us tea, guys?” Ralph asks.

Gene’s eyes land on Julian (facing the wall, limp, pretty much comatose) and narrow. Renée is hiding a grin behind her hand.

“No,” Gene replies. “No tea for you.” 

* * *

   ** _\+ vi. okay, look, at some point you just have to stop pretending to have shame_**

When it finally happens -- and of course it happens, because it was inevitable that they would get caught, with the amount of close calls they've had -- it's all Babe’s freaking fault.

Ralph refuses to blame Julian, because it's a big moment for him. You only lose your virginity once, after all. There are some times you're allowed to scream, and this is one of them.

It would have been a damn fantastic experience had fucking Babe not flung the door open while Julian was in the middle of riding him.

“Spina, buddy, are you kiddin’ me with this --”

Babe freezes. Ralph freezes. Julian (still on top of Ralph, with Ralph still inside him) freezes. It's like the world’s most humiliating picture, a freezeframe of a moment in time they'll never stand a chance of living down.

 _Well,_ thinks Ralph, _it had to happen some time._ With the amount of close calls they've had, he's surprised they got away with it for as long as they did.

“Holy shit!” Babe chokes out, sounding like a strangled chicken. “Julian?”

Julian shifts on top of him, and Ralph had to bite back the overwhelming urge to groan. “Hi, Babe,” Julian says, offering a small wave. “So, I'm not a virgin anymore.”

If that had been it -- if fucking Heffron had just closed the fucking door and run out of the room, like a _good_ friend -- they could have ended it there. The three of them would never speak of it again. Babe wouldn't be able to meet their eyes for a week, which would be fine. Ralph and Julian could finish in peace.

Instead Babe just gapes at them, like the world’s dumbest fish out of water. When Ralph catches a flash of movement over his shoulder, followed by a head full of curls poking in the doorway, he knows they're screwed.

 _Fucking Heffron,_ he thinks. _Doesn't even know how to knock._

Fran’s eyes widen, mouth falling open in shock. She looks ready to shriek, or laugh, or faint. That she does none of these things is a little impressive. The holler that rips through the house a second later is even moroso, as much as it makes Ralph’s stomach plummet. “BILL! HOLY SHIT, GET UP HERE NOW!”

“WHAT IS IT?” Bill hollers from downstairs. Fran stomps her foot on the floor, causing the house to rattle.

“GET UP HERE!”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS IT?”

“Close the door,” Ralph says to Babe. “Close it, do it, close the fucking door _right now --”_

Babe is freaking laughing. He's _hysterical._ Ralph is going to strangle him.

He can hear Bill Guarnere thundering up the stairs, and he doesn't want to deal with this. He really, really doesn't. This is his home. These are his friends. He'll still need to _live_ with these people after today.

His instinct propels him to try pushing Julian off, but the problem is, Julian is still attached, so it's just very painful for everyone involved. Julian lets out a yell like a dying lemur, Ralph hollers, and Babe’s cackling gets even more high-pitched. This is the scene Bill walks in on.

“Oh my god,” Bill says. “Wow.”

Fran has her phone out. She's taking pictures. Babe has tears running down his face; Ralph empathizes.

And Julian, the idiot, is still trying to talk. “It's not what it looks like, we haven't done this before, it's not like we're just --”

“You can stop now,” Ralph says. “You can stop.”

“We were just trying it out! You weren't supposed to walk in, Babe, we're just _trying_ it --”

“Taking him for a _test_ ride?” says Bill, looking like he's trying his damnedest not to crack up. Ralph glares at him. Babe falls on the floor.

Slowly, Ralph’s gaze shifts back to Julian. Julian, who’s looking somewhere halfway between desperate and traumatized. Julian, whose face is white as a sheet. Julian, who just had his first time ruined in the worst way possible. Julian, who is still on top of him.

“You can get off now,” Ralph says, and Julian croaks out something that might be agreement.

When he tumbles off the bed and lands on his ass in his haste to get away, Ralph doesn't even feel bad.

For a few moments, no one dared to say a word. Babe is still trying to recollect himself, while Fran and Bill are both staring at them like they aren't sure if they want answers or not. In the stretch of silence that ensues, Ralph tries his damndest to stare at anything except anyone else.

Babe is the one who finally pipes up. “Sooo, do we get an explanation, or --”

_“NO YOU DON’T.”_

In the space of a single second, Julian tears across the room, shoved Babe back into the hallway, and slams the door in their faces. Ralph hears the lock click; he sees Julian slump back, wide-eyed and breathless. He can still taste his heart in his mouth.

Now he and Julian are the ones staring at each other. Horror is written across Julian’s face. Ralph knows he looks no different. Neither of them speak, because there's nothing to say. It was inevitable, but just like a trainwreck, you never anticipate how bad it will be until it happens.

“You know what,” Julian finally says. “The window. I'll climb out the window.” He says this like he's hoping to fall from the second story and break his neck.

Thinking of the cluster of awestruck friends outside his bedroom door, Ralph thinks this sounds like the most merciful fate. “Good idea,” he replies. “Maybe I'll join you.”


End file.
